Cobb Trust
by Austrian Artemis
Summary: Artemis has secrets. One shot.    Crappy summary, I know, but by the title, you should know what it is. Yay for crossovers! This one is the first of it's kind, too. I wrote it because nobody else would. :


Artemis was sitting in his study at Fowl Manor.

This isn't a very interesting way to begin this story, is it? So many stories may start off so similarly. Such an archaic task, really. There are many daunting challenges he could be accepting, many problems he could be solving. Instead, this story begins merely with Artemis Fowl sitting at his desk, in his study, at home. Mind-numbing.

Perhaps I should begin elsewhere.

It was a cold spring morning, nearing the eleven o'clock hour. There was little snow on the ground, like white, sparkling spheres of a child's craft glitter. Frost gathered on the edges of rough window panes. There was a certain crisp feeling in the air, as one might feel on such a morning. The sun sat in the sky, dazzling and burning away at the eyes of those who dared look at it for too long. The trees weighed down with the steadily decreasing amount of snow, losing less and less weight as it slowly melted throughout the daylight hour. Pinecones cracked, birds chirped, no sound of automobiles could be heard.

Despite the natural beauty of southern Ireland, Artemis Fowl the second was, as usual, ignoring the outdoors. He felt the plastic armrests of his industrial chair under his cold hands. The computer screen glared at him, projecting the harsh white light which drained his face so. For some reason the prodigy could not identify, he was sweating. The black leather chair would be sticky if he was to touch it with his bare skin, and the areas of his shirt collar and cuffs were drenched in his perspiration.

This is where our story begins.

Artemis was fairly certain he had been sitting there a while, he just wasn't entirely sure exactly how long. Wasn't it nine-thirty-five the last time he looked at the clock? For that matter, wasn't it dark? Wasn't he in bed?

Wait, he thought, isn't it June?

Perhaps he had just been a little too stressed, yes, that was it. He was under the impression that it was much later in the year, much later in the day, and that he was in his bed. He had dozed off, hadn't he? Maybe. He couldn't say, but he assumed this was the case because of his odd feeling in his head and an odd taste in his mouth one gets when one wakes up.

He had been staring at his computer screen. The screen showed the Bing homepage. That's odd, he thought to himself. I never use Bing. Closing out the internet browser, he rubbed his forehead and looked up.

There was a lady standing in front of his door. "Can I help you?" He asked her. "Can I help you?" He repeated, just to make sure it wasn't said inside his head.

The woman, with wavy brown hair and soft facial features, smiled. "Hello, are you Artemis Fowl?" She said.

"The second, yes," Artemis answered, reaching down onto the cold plastic-metal button to turn off his computer.

"It's my understanding that you had people teach you how to guard your unconscious mind, am I correct?" The woman said.

Artemis temporarily tensed up. How could she know about the defense training? He honestly hoped that few people would learn of this. As a child prodigy he wasn't exactly proud of the fact he had to be taught to do something he couldn't figure out on his own.

He tried to regain his normal position, loosening up a bit. "Yes, but, how could you know about that?" He was a little worried about her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't mean to worry you, sir," she said, nearly reading his mind. She stepped forward. "My name is Natalia Brooks. I'm a junior officer for your, shall we say, army. I'm here to give you some information. We have a feeling that there may be extractors headed your way." She shook the boy's hand.

Ariadné shook the boy's hand. It was good to finally be meeting this prodigy. Using a variation of what extractors now called the Cobb Trust method, she made him believe that she was on his side. As Arthur had instructed her, "Artemis may be a prodigy, but we can't forget he's still a child. His instinct is to trust those who seem friendly and likeable. That's why we're sending you in."

She had blushed at that remark, but she kicked back into gear, and smiled at the troubled Artemis. Ah, she wished Cobb was here.

"Tell me more about these potential extractors," the boy said. He motioned with his pale, thin hand for her to pull up a seat. So, she daintily moved a red armchair from the wall and sat in it one it was in front of the desk. Before she could begin, Artemis noticed something.

"If you are my 'mental security', does that mean I'm asleep?" Artemis asked. The whole world was silent for a moment.

Ariadné made it speak again. "Yes, sir. These extractors are coming for your secrets. It may seem like paranoia, but we know, for a fact, they are flying on their way to Dublin, and there could still be a potential that they could steal these things from you; we don't have much time."

Artemis thought, his brow sinking. Looking up into her eyes, she managed to keep a straight face. I'm lying to a child, she thought, and it's working.

Ariadné cleared her throat. She said the cue line for Arthur's entrance. "Where is a place that all your secrets may be stored in your mind?" She asked.

As his eyes darted for the computer, a loud, crashing racket sprang through the door with a force like a lion coming down on an antelope. Ariadné hoped Arthur would be right on time. He held a gun.

"You have two minutes. Give me all you have!" He shouted, and pointed it right at the boy's head.

Artemis panicked, and made a small noise from fear. Such undignified noises had never escaped his mouth before. Natalia turned around, stood up, and held her hand out at him.

"Don't panic, Artemis. This is only a test. A drill. Pull up your documents on your computer. With any luck, it will be saved on your desktop." Natalia tried to calm him down. He turned the computer back on, impatiently waiting for it to load. He was scared for his life.

He's cooperating, Ariadné thought. And Arthur is perfect. He always is. Her girlish thoughts drifted to some far away place, daydreaming, if you will, about…

She shook her head, and noticed Artemis had his password typed in to his computer. She tried to comfort him, and then Arthur screamed. "YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE!" Artemis nearly had a mental breakdown.

"I'm trying!" He cried pulling up the 'Confidential' document from his desktop. He right clicked the print button. The printer had enough paper, luckily for him. The document started printing, and Arthur made a mad dash for the spewed-out paper, never taking the gun away from aim at Artemis.

When it was finished printing completely, Arthur put the gun down. "Good work, Artemis. Nice fast-paced work there. Just remember not to get too panicked."

Ariadné leaned forward and kissed the boy on the forehead, much to his disbelief, and she and Arthur left the room, waving good-bye with paper in hand. She knew he would be in too much of a shock to realize that they got away with it, especially since he was about to wake up in three….

Two….

One….

Artemis awoke, in a cold sweat. It was the middle of the night. He looked at his wall clock. It was June, after all, then, and it was night.

It was just a dream, he thought, and rolled over and went back to sleep.

Arthur put a hand on Ariadné's shoulder. He nervously spoke, looking down at Artemis's confidential information they had stolen from him without him knowing it.

"We've got a problem," Arthur said. He spoke with disbelief in his voice.

"What's wrong?" She asked, scanning the paper of secrets as well.

"If these records belonging to Artemis are correct, then there is an underground species of fairies living below ground. And we need to find Holly Short."


End file.
